


Walking Wounded

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [514]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, injured alan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:17:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: Alan and scott. Alan injured badly scott blaming himself - SK





	1. Chapter 1

Scott’s eyes are red-rimmed and set deep into shadows, but his salute is crisp as a cadet’s as he stands to attention.

Casey takes the last few steps to close the gap between them.  “As you were,” she says, gentle and soft, wary and careful.  Scott is swaying on his feet, and this close she can smell the smoke, see the blood and soot smeared across his uniform and up the pale strip of his throat above the collar.

Scott doesn’t step back, doesn’t sag like she’s expecting.  He’s holding himself so rigid he’s almost trembling, a fine full-body shiver.  “Ma’am,” he says, eyes fixed on a point six feet behind her.  “I hereby formal request the GDF relieve me as commanding officer of International Rescue.”

Thea exhaled softly.  “Scott,” she says, voice pitched low, mindful of the flow of doctors and nurses and orderlies that are streaming around them.  “I can’t.  You’re not my Captain anymore.”

Scott holds attention, but his eyes flutter closed, just long enough for long dark lashes to rest against dirty, tear-stained cheeks.  “Please,” he says, almost begging.  “I can’t…I need…”  His breathing is speeding up, edging into panic territory.  “I can’t carry this anymore.  Not right now.”

Casey knows when to step back and when to step forward.  Her standard issue boots seem clunky next to the sleek, technological design he wears like a second skin, blood-warm under her palm as she grips his shoulder.  “You are relieved, Mr Tracy.”

She feels the tension flood out of him.  “Thank you,” he murmurs, barely loud enough to hear, even this close.

She squeezes, once.  “Now go sit with your brother.  He’ll want to see you when he wakes up.”

Scott’s look tells her too much about lost hope, but he turns and walks back into the ICU.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now lets have Allie waking up to big bro and comforting him - SK

“You look terrible.”

It takes Scott too long to realize where the voice is coming from.  Alan’s smiling through the oxygen mask, probably still too doped up to feel much of anything, let alone the pins in his legs or the IVs in his arm.  “Says the guy in the hospital bed,” Scott tries, gently squeezing Alan’s unbroken wrist.

“Did I miss?” Alan asks, eyes almost milky with how unfocused they were.  But questions were good, words were good, full sentences were amazing.

“Nah, sprout,” Scott says, resting his other hand lightly on Alan’s hip, mindful of traction and bandages and too much medical equipment.  “You hit.  At high speed.  Don’t do that again.”

“Urgh,” Alan groans, eyes fluttering closed again.

Scott holds his post as nurses and doctors come by, make approving noises at the report of consciousness, no matter how brief.  His surgeon is there when Alan opens his eyes again.  “Still look terrible, Scooter,” Alan rasps, voice dry.

“How are you feeling, Alan?” Dr Singh asks, reaching down to check Alan’s IV.

Alan’s eyes tracked down, taking in as if for the first time all the hardware around him and in him.  “Good drugs.”

“Feeling woozy, Alan?  That’s to be expected…”

Alan’s brow was furrowed, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.  “Can’t feel anything.”

Scott felt his stomach drop and clench at the doctor’s frown.  He held still, frozen in place, as Dr Singh tapped his finger against Alan’s wrist.  “Can you feel that?  How about here?  How about here?”  Only when he tapped Alan’s sternum did he finally get a nod.

“Alan?” Scott asked, leaning in as Alan’s frown turned into a look of confusion and fear.  “You okay?”

Alan licked dry lips.  “I’m fine.  It’ll be fine…All fine…” he words slurred as he drifted off back into sleep again.

“Mr Tracy,” Dr Singh said as the silence stretched out, and Scott hated he wanted to be anywhere but here, wanted to hear anything but what he knew was now coming.  “I think we need to talk. Perhaps outside.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now lets have a propers big ending! Lets have Alan healing or not healing but finally getting home and scott not letting him put his sight. - SK 

“You’re milking it.”

Alan tries for innocent, but John knows him too well.  Still in his blues, holding onto the doorframe because the room is probably still spinning for him, and John makes him faster than even Virgil.  Alan shrugs and gives up the act.  “Well, can you blame me?”

John laughs, and Alan remembers who he learned every dirty trick from.  “So the rumours he’s gotten maudlin are true?”

“And how,” Alan agrees, using his hands to push himself more fully sitting.  He never thought he’d be grateful for tingling toes, but the doctors assure him it’s a good sign, another marker as he pushes further back from the brink.  But healing, as Gordon reminds him, requires patience.

Patience was never one of Alan’s strong suites.  Tormenting Scott helps pass the time.

John drifts in to perch on his usual spot at the edge of the bed.  “He always was a bit of a mother hen,” he agrees.  “Want me to get him to back off?”

Alan can hear the clink of plates and cutlery downstairs – Scott’s only down there making his tray because he knows John is  here, probably.  His is the first face he sees in the morning and the last at night.  It’s Scott who’s been coaxing him through his exercises and holding his hand as the doctor pricks him with yet another needle.  “Nah,” Alan says, and even to himself he sounds ridiculously fond.  “I think I owe him this much.”

John nods like it’s the right answer and starts telling him a story from orbit that has Alan in stitches of laughter by the time Scott reappears with his breakfast tray.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round four. Night time. Alan and Scott have a lovely brotherly talk all is good. Until alan loses feeling in one leg. Have fun - SK

“Scott…”

“No, just let me…”

“Scott!”

Scott paused from fluffing pillows and checking medical collars. “What?”

“I’m losing feeling in my toes….”

Scott almost yelped as he flew into action; Alan’s recovery was going better than expected, but everyone from the surgeon down had flagged for Scott one warning sign.   _Loss of feeling in extremities_.

“Holy shi…no, wait, Dr Singh gave me a checklist.”

“Scott!”  Alan didn’t sound scared, mostly exasperated.  “Shut up.”

Scott blinked.  “Alan, if your toes…” he reached for them and almost flinched as Alan wiggled them.  “Wait, you said…”

Alan rolled his eyes.  “Because you were sitting on my leg, you moron.”  Scott felt his jaw drop, and Alan laughed.  “Come here, you idiot.”

It felt odd, back the front even, to be held and comforted by his baby brother.  But perhaps that was exactly what he needed.  Scott finally forced himself to pull back.  “Sorry.”

Alan’s smile was sunshine, always had been, always will.  “Nothing to be sorry about.” He paused with the slyness of the family baby.  “You can’t help it that you’re a clumsy oaf.”

Scott gave him a shove, for once not tip-toeing around the medical gear that was thinning out daily from where it had encircled Alan.  Alan laughed, and shoved him back, and for the first time, Scott accepted that they might just make it.


End file.
